New Perspectives
by indrotuction
Summary: Just because everyone loves them... stories about Kurt and Blaine through the eyes of another person. future fics, angst, fluff, smut (in future chapters) sick days, anything goes, as long as someone else is telling the story. One-shots!
1. Puck's game

Puck's game

8:09 Day one-

Okay, so I have a little obsession. Well, not really an obsession; it's more of a game.

I like to make people blush.

It all started with Quinn, but then I knocked her up so she no longer blushes. I can't get Santana or Brittney to blush. Rachel was my target for a while, but, now, every time I say anything she rolls her eyes at me. Real mature. I don't really talk to Mercedes, Tina or Sugar. I had thought my game of making people blush was over. I even tried Satan, I mean Santana (got to love Kurt's nickname), for a while.

Not.

A.

Good.

Idea.

And that has to mean it was a terrible idea because all my ideas are bad. If I can admit it, then it was just fucking bad…

None of the guys would blush, plus, I don't want to be hitting on guys who don't even like guys. That's when it me harder than bricks; what if they like guys! You know? If they were gay. Lucky me, we got two of those.

I started out with Kurt because, come on. If he wasn't the biggest blushing virgin I've ever seen, I'd be damned. It didn't go over very well. It didn't go over well at all.

" _Screw off, Puck."_

" _Why are you even talking to me?"_

" _You look like you crawled out of a dirty shack."_

" _I have a boyfriend, obviously."_

" _You're straight, Puck."_

" _You a have squirrel on your head."_

O-kay, he didn't even blush after four whole days of trying I gave up. I threw my towel in on attempting to get Kurt to Blush; clearly he was not the blushing virgin I had thought. Or clearly I'm just really, really bad at my own game. Well, that had left me with one last person. My new and upcoming bro, Blaine Anderson. He was always in the school gym when all my boys were, so it would be easy to talk to him.

" _Nice ass, Anderson."_

" _Are you medusa? Because you make me rock hard."_

" _Some on call a weatherman! Anderson's going to see a few inches tonight."_

" _Kurt thinks you're like fire… he finds you hot, and is going to leave you wet."_

" _Why you walking so funny?"_

Every time I made a comment a red color would spill all over his cheeks. Check mate. I had found my new target to play my game. Little did I know that other people would be joining our game, soon.

"Okay, dude, what's up with you and talking to Blaine?" Sam had mumbled to me while we were pumping iron. The metal was cool and heavy in my hand, as I felt the strain in my arm every time I curled the bell. The usually crew was here Sam, Finn, Artie, Mike and even Rory except Anderson wasn't around. The school gym felt kind of empty without him. We all usually get together every Tuesday and Thursday. "Puck?"

My thought scattered like mice, and I answered, "What?"

"You always say really, like, dirty things to Blaine. I was just curious as to why."

That is when I got recruits to play my game. We even have a little competition going on between Sam, Mike, Artie and me. Finn didn't do it because he's a pansy, and doesn't want to say things like that _to my brother's boyfriend._ Pffft… whatever. He gets to miss out on the epic prize for the winner which is going to be me! Totally. Rory just is very, very bad at dirty lines it's actually quite comical.

Anyway,

The winner gets a free medium pizza from everyone playing.

And,

I'm getting the fucking prize.

I mean, I have to. I have the most experience in this game by far. The rules: every time you get Blaine to blush you get a point. The game will go on until Blaine stops blushing at things (So basically for a long time). Whoever has the most point's wins. Also, someone has to be there to witness the blushing of the Blaine; otherwise it doesn't count.

So that my friends is how "Blushing Blaine the Game" started. We got a leaderboard scribbled on a whiteboard deep inside my locker. Today is day one, and I'm keeping track of everyone's points. Even though it totally doesn't matter because I'm totally going to crush everyone. Not just crush, smash their asses until it's just butt dust left.

3:43 Day three-

We are in the middle of glee club, and Sam motherfucking Evens is surprisingly good at this game. I think it's because him and Blaine are, like, besties. Here's the leaderboards:

Sam- 3

Puck- 3

Mike- 1

Artie- 0

Yeah, I didn't think I'd ever tie with anyone. Blaine is sitting right beside Berry in the front row with face swimming in interest, as he watched her blab on and _on_ about some stupid topic.

"I have never been riding before, but I loved it! I always found myself on the same spiritual level as horses, you know? Free." Rachel squawked on like a parrot.

Blaine replied, "Oh yeah, I love riding." Oh, you're making this too easy Anderson. Make it a challenge.

"Love riding Kurt!" I hollered from behind him. Because of the red that bubbled to the surface of his neck, I knew he was blushing.

Puck- 4

I'm winning just like it should be.

8:19 Day 7-

Here's the leaderboard:

Sam- 8

Puck- 8

Mike- 3

Artie- 6

I can't believe this! Me, and Sam are tied, still. This is stupid. And! Arties making a comeback. I can't lose my own freakin' game. This is just a slow point or something.

Walking down the crowded hallway, well, pumping my way through the crowded hallway, I see it; Sam is leaning against a locker neighbour to Blaine's, and his lips are curled up into a playful smirk. Oh hell no, he's trying to pull a lead against me. His eyes bore right into mine, and it looks like the ocean swirling in there is teasing me. Taunting me about losing my own game.

Blaine seems to be talking about some musical school Kurt's going to. Nadia or something, but that doesn't matter. What matters was the low toned comment spilling out of Sam's mouth, "Kurt's a real lucky guy, you know?"

Crunching his eyebrows together, and dropping his jaw, Blaine replied, "What do you mean? I mean, I didn't think that knowing about his education is really that important."

"No-no I mean with an ass like that, anyone should be lucky to be your boyfriend." To prove his point, he smacked his open palm against Blaine's ass. Once the contact was made, Blaine's entire skin was melted into a rose color. The sound of the slap rang in my ear, shit, I'm losing. Sam, stalking towards me, hollered back at Blaine, "Anyways bye, dude."

I stood in the center of the room not moving the tiniest muscle, frozen. Walking past me, Sam mumbled, "I'm winning." I really don't need that fucking reminder, but thanks anyways Sam. Sarcastic comment was sarcastic if you hadn't caught my drift.

3:36 day ten-

Okay, here's today's scoop. Sam and I are tied, again. Which is complete and utterly stupid, I mean, I should be crushing him so hard he's flat. Artie and Mike are also tied, but pretty much out of the race. Here's the standing (Not that it matters because I'm totally going to win):

Sam- 17

Puck- 17

Mike- 7

Artie- 7

You're probably thinking 'wow, how'd the standings get so high?' Well, there was a boy's party yesterday at the Hummel's, and Kurt wasn't there. Sam and I had pretty much gone to town. Today, though, I have plan to pull ahead. We have glee club today, and Sam's at home sick; here's my chance basically. I just need to myself. You know? Bad ass, gross, inappropriate, un-censored, awesome, boss…

Stumbling my way into the choir room for glee club I see the target sitting by empty seats, lonesome. Anderson. He's going to be so red people are going to think he spent a week in the sun without any sunscreen. I sat on the chair to his left.

"Hey Puck," he smiled at me oh so innocently.

I replied, "Hey, do anything interesting last night?"

"Oh, ugh, homework? I don't think you can call that interesting." Blaine said while shrugging his shoulders up, and letting them slump back.

I smirk hard. So hard it almost hurt. "Funny, I thought you were going to say Kurt, or is homework a code word for him?" a red spilt all over the terrain of his face. A scoff bounced his chest, and people started pouring into the room.

"If homework was a code name for Kurt, I would find it interesting by the way." Blaine whispered after leaning towards me. The chairs were no longer empty, but full with chatting people looking like squirrels on caffeine.

I whispered back, "You wouldn't find it interesting… you'd find it sexy."

Puck- 19

Take that you stupid big lipped goon that's super nice. Ha! I'm winning.

After glee practice, Kurt snatched my shoulder in a grip tight like a vice. I stood up, and he mirrored my actions, and grumbled, "What the hell are you doing?" I have no idea what he's talking about, but People tend to have a problem with me. Though most of the time I didn't do anything wrong. Well, other than knocking up Quinn, but that was one time. Come on, people make mistakes.

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

Kurt hollowed out his cheeks, and his eyes melted into a glare. "What the hell are you doing with my boyfriend?" he snarled. I guess that's the end of the game.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" I exclaimed. I put my hands up as if I was surrendering, but his bitch face tightened.

"You and Sam keep trying to make him blush, and saying some really, really weird things for straight people!"

My whisper barely tickled his ears, as I murmured, "And Mike and Artie."

"What was that?"

"And Mike and Artie," I murmured louder.

"What?" His anger features melted into one's of confusion. Kurt's eyebrows crunched while he jerked his head back.

"Ugh, we were trying to get him to blush." Yeah, this is the end of our game. Definitely. No one messes with Hummel's boyfriend.

After a minute he said softly really drawing out the word, "Why?"

"Okay, so, we have a game going. Whoever makes him blush the most gets free pizza's from the others." He just bobbed his head, and his eyebrow flew away from each other.

"Okay, I want in."

"What?" Guess that wasn't the end of the game.

"I want to play."

"Yeah, okay Hummel, but we're not re-starting the points."

"It's okay. I don't need you to. Also, I want cheesecake instead of pizza, for when I win." He stalked out of the room leaving me behind scoffing. Yeah, sure, Hummel 'When I win'. I'm winning. Totally.

4:57 Day 27-

I am highly sad to say this is the leaderboard:

Sam- 26

Puck- 27

Artie- 12

Mike- 9

Kurt- 67

Why couldn't Kurt give us just a little pity? I mean, come on, that is the most pathetic thing I've ever seen. I actually thought I was going to win. Clearly my dreams were crushed.

On my defence I didn't think that Kurt kissing Blaine was like clockwork. Every. Damn. Time. Kurt would give a little sheepish look, almost shy, and Blaine would flash his pearls in the brightest smile, the sun would be jealous. Kurt would lean over, and bump his lips into Blaine. After a few seconds of gentle kissing, they would just melt into each other. With a wet smack, they would pull away from each other, and Blaine would change into a cherry avoiding eye contact with Kurt. It was fucking clockwork. What can I say, though? Good game Hummel.

After leaving the bakery, the cold wind whips me in the face; all the warm smells of fresh pastries and cinnamon left my nose. Today, I accept my defeat holding a cheesecake walking to give Hummel his victory. There will be a re-match, and I promise that I will. One day. I will win.


	2. Finn's problem

Finns problem

I have a problem. Or a…what's that fancy word Kurt uses? Conundrum! Yeah, I have a conundrum.

Burt had decided that we should go camping for a weekend before we went to nationals and then graduate. Rachel was invited therefore Blaine was as well. With all the practicing she does for nationals, though, Rachel couldn't make it. So, it was just me and the gaybies (As Rachel calls them).I thought it had been a genius idea. I mean, I freaking love camping; I get to connect with my inner dude. My problem, I mean conundrum, happened the first night.

I was lying in my single tent with Kurt and Blaine beside me in their four person tent. Carole and Burt were in a camper a good few meters away. The sound of silence swamped my tent other than a few chirps of grasshoppers or rustling of a bush in the distance. The smell of burnt firewood invades my nose alongside the smell of pine. After a few minutes of enjoying the, like, peace of the area, my lids start to feel heavy, so I close them. The moment their close I hear a high pitched whine from the tent to the left of me. I immediately sit up, and my heart pounds into my chest hard like a sledgehammer. Were they hurt? Did someone mug them? Is there a bear?

Once I un-zip my tent I stumble out, and the cold dark air smacked me in the face. I hobbled my way to Kurt's tent and fling the zipper down fast with adrenaline pumping in my veins.

"Hey guys are you okay-"I trail off at the sight of them; they were clearly not okay. Their chest thumped up and down from heavy breathing, and they tangled themselves deep into the big sleeping bag from, obviously, fear. Only their heads were poking out from the blanket making them look like gophers.

"Finn get out!" Kurt screech was shaking. Why does he want me out? Even his voice is shaking from fear!

"Why? Are you okay? I heard a scream or something." I replied. Trying to sound heroic. You know? Like superheroes sound in really, really old T.V shows.

Blaine answered, "Yeah, there… was a bug?"

"Yes! There was a bug, clearly. That is why I screamed." Kurt breathed out. A sigh of relief was released from his mouth slowly. A sigh of relief that I'm here to kill the bug.

"Do you need me to kill the bug or something?" I questioned.

"No Finn! Blaine killed it. We are fine."

"Okay…" I grumbled, as I exited their tent.

Once I was back in my tent, I fell down onto the blow-up mattress staring into the soul of the green fabric above me. Trying to calm down the adrenaline, I close my eyes so all I see is a sea of black. That's when I hear it, again. Well, not again, but something was not right in the tent next to me. The sound of skin smacking violently against each other filled the silence, and then there was a moan. A moan of pain! Oh no, they must be getting beat up or something, right? I got to go save them again.

I fling myself out of my tent so fast I trip over the flap of the entrance. Once I reach the tent, I listen for any other sounds of pain. I look for shadows of other people. There isn't. They must've left. There is, though, a frustrated groan. Kurt's probably hurting really, really badly. The zipper shrieks at me, as I open the tent up.

If looks could kill, I would've died from the one Kurt was giving me. Eyes burn me, and his cheeks are sucked in so there's a valley on them. "What do you want now, Finn?"

"There was some weird sounds, dude, I thought you guys were getting beat up." They looked fine. I mean, their still huddled in the sleeping bag, and huffing heavier than my grandpa with asthma. Oh, and their skin is slightly glistening in the flashlight set up between the two of them. Sweating from… something. There's no bruises or cuts, so that's good.

What were they doing then?

Blaine crunched his triangle eyebrows together—which are, like, the coolest thing ever—and asked, "What sounds did you hear?"

"Ugh, like, skin smacking."

"Oh!" his eyes light up as if the sun beat down on them. "We were playing a pretty intense game of rock, paper, and scissors."

Okay now I'm confused. Or what's that fancy word Kurt uses? Disordered! I'm really, really, disordered. "Why did I hear Kurt moan in pain, then?"

"Like I said a vastly intense game of rock, paper, scissors." Blaine explained. His eyebrows flew high into his forehead.

"Wait… how do you hurt someone playing rock paper scissors?"

"By playing intensely?"

I nod understandingly even though I'm still confused. "Okay. Wait-wait-wait, why would you hurt my brother in a game?"

"Oh my god, Finn!" Kurt's face is scrunched up, as he hollers, "We were trying to have sex!"

But then why- oh, oh OH! Okay, yeah, that makes sense. With my face burning, I stagger out of their tent while nodding. The next day I walk up in my single tent to the sound of birds happily singing, and the sun high up in the sky smiling down on everyone. Kurt's the only one up. I get up to greet him, and I notice him hobbling around like his back hurts.

"Hey Kurt! Did you do something to your back?'' he gives me a bitch face. Why would he- oh. Right. That makes sense. I no longer want to go camping with Rachel's gaybies.


	3. 5 times Mercedes calmed Kurt down

5 times Mercedes had to reassure Kurt about his looks 1 time she had to reassure Blaine

First time-

"Kurt, come on, you look great." I tried to calm the nerves in Kurt which were clearly pumping a nervous energy.

Flushed and digging his hands incessantly through his hair, Kurt eyes himself in the vanity mirror. He heavily breathes out, "No Cedes! I can't look just great! I need to look amazing, fantastic, drop dead gorgeous, so good looking Beyoncé will be jealous… actually, no, that's insane nothing can make Beyoncé jealous. She the queen of the universe-"

"Kurt!" I cut him off. As adorable as his rambling was he looked like he was going to pass out. "You do look drop dead gorgeous! Blaine's mind is going to be mush when he see you."

"Are you sure?" Looking himself up and down as if disgusted by the thing staring back in the mirror. Which that thing is not disgusting, at all!

"I'm surer than I've ever been, and that's saying something because I'm a pretty confident person." I reply with a, hopefully, reassuring smile.

"It's just-just that this is our first real, real date. I want to look perfect."

"And you do!" I exclaimed. He actually looks like a model that stepped right out of Vogue. His brown sweater looks burnt and blends well into the white skinny jeans that are so skinny someone would mistake them for his skin. Black leather boots hug his calf, and matched the scarf laying on his neck. "I would be surprised if Blaine doesn't get down on one knee and purposes to you from you sheer gorgeousness."

"You mean it?"

"White boy, I would never lie to you. Of course I mean it!"

He barely breathes out, "Okay." With his chest puffed out, he struts out of the room in big strides. Confidence pooling out of him. I smirked so hard it hurt. My little baby's getting to be so grown up. Oh no. that shouldn't be on the back of his head.

"Kurt! You have a cow lick on the back of your head!" I holler, and he immediately snaps his head at me. Eyes blown up like someone had air into them. Also, they glimmered with fear.

"No-no-no, fix it! Right now!" he sits down on my bed, and I grab the emergency hair gel for him.

"Already on it bossy sparkly pants." Once I goop the gel on, the liquid dribbled onto the problem area. "Okay done."

"Thanks Cedes… sorry I was a little panicked there." His breathes were coming out short and shaky. He's almost making me nervous from his nerves.

"It's totally okay and understandable. Now, go get your man." He mirrored my toothy smile, and sprinted out like his feet had been set on fire.

Second time-

Okay, I must be having a flashback because Kurt's currently looking at his reflection in the vanity mirror with complete disgust. Only this time it's in his room, and he's sporting a kilt around his waist.

"Kurt, come on, you look fantastic, drop dead gorgeous, Beyoncé would be jealous of you." I tell with my eyes tumbling around their sockets. Sitting on his bed, I did my fingers deep in my hair trying to fix it up for prom.

"Oh my god, I can't believe you remember my speech." His reflection looks at me.

"Well, you were so scared I thought you were going to drown in your nerves." Looking at his shaking hands, I mumbled, "Actually, I think you're going to drown right now."

"Oh, shut up." He snapped the pencil in his hands easy like celery. Okay nervous Kurt is scary Kurt. He must've notice the terror that snuck up on my features because, dripping with calmness, he said, "Sorry Cedes, I'm just really, really nervous."

"Why?"

The bed squeaks out a complaint as Kurt sits on it neighbour to me. Bouncing his knee up and down so fast it's having a seizure, Kurt says under his breath, "What if Blaine doesn't like my outfit. What if he thinks I'm ugly, or worst my outfit?"

"Okay, deep breathes. Firstly, that boy is crazy for you, and if you showed up with a garbage on your body he would still think it's hot. Also, you, Kurt, are never ugly. You have a really, really beautiful soul."

"Okay… so that means I look okay?" I barked out a laugh because only Kurt…

"Beyoncé is begging Jay Z to look as good as you do right now." The corner of his lips peak up, and his eyes brighten. "Are you good to go?" I ask.

Nodding his head he stands up. Kurt brushes off the imagery dust on his pants, as he exclaims, "You look great Mercedes. Jay Z is begging Beyoncé to look as good as you do right now."

There's my boy. Displaying my hand right in front of his for him to take, I say, "You know my outfit needs an audience."

Third time-

Okay-okay-okay, I will admit Rachel Berry was pretty damn good. That doesn't mean I wouldn't have been better. It just means she impressed me.

My heeled black boots clack echoes down the empty hallway. The show was over, and I'm just running, well, briskly walking to go grab my books that I need for homework tonight. Kurt looked so cute in his costume, and Blaine. Oh my… if only he wasn't gay. Actually, no, I'm glad he's gay because Kurt deserves someone that good-looking. Once I'm face with locker 456, I start spinning the little dial around.

I wasn't originally planning to go see the play, but the want of seeing my friends perform beat the pettiness; which I'm glad for. Because my boys were so good, and who knew Artie could direct, hey?

A distant shriek of my name sent my thought scattering like thieves in the light of a police car.

"Mercedes, wait!" Kurt breathless call echoed. "MERCEDES!"

Not even the smallest spasm moved my pinkie, I stood frozen. "One word… what?" I replied. Kurt's chest is thumping heavily like he had ran a marathon, and a sparkle of sweat on his forehead glimmered in the light.

"I-I-I told Blaine I had to run to the bathroom really, really quick, so we don't have a lot of time."

"Kurt, what's going on?"

His excitement shook his whole body, as he scrambled the words out of his mouth, "I kind of, well, I kind of proposed to have sex with Blaine, and I told him I'd meet him at his car in a couple minutes. I saw you walking, and I needed to ask a question. How do I look?" Okay, wow, he said that with one breath. Also, wait what?

"You proposed what?" I blurted out. Mouth hanging open in the shape of a circle, and my eyes expanded faster than a balloon would with a pump.

"Well, he asked if I would go to the after party with him, and I told him we should go to his house." He said, still, breathlessly.

"Okay, boy, take a breath."

His chest rose and thumped down hard. "Okay, are you sure I look fine?"

With some extra flare, I exclaim, "You look amazing, fantastic, drop dead gorgeous, Beyoncé should be jealous of you."

Speaking in a normal voice, well, one not-so-breathlessly, Kurt mumbled with amusement in his voice, "Oh my god, that's like out thing now."

"Totally."

"Okay, do I look fuckable?"

Did I hear that right? Please tell me I need a hearing aid or something 'cause he did not just say that. "What?"

"Never mind."

Now it was my turn to be breathless. I said smothered by my breath, "Oh, thank god."

"Do I look like you want to be fucked by me?" yeah… please give me some freakin' hearing aids because I did not just hear that.

"Oh, hell to the no, you did not just say that." That was followed by the harsh yell of my locker shutting. The book in my hand was black like a starless night, and it was the only thing I could look at right now. He nodded the smile on his face never getting close faltering.

"Right! Maybe not the most appropriate thing to say. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow. No, not tomorrow it's the weekend. I'll see you Monday! Okay?" he said running out of breath, again.

"Yeah, okay. Give me all the details, and Good luck?" he was sprinting down the hallway before I could spit out my sentence. Wow, okay. Well, good job for my white boy.

Fourth time-

"Is there something wrong with me?"

"What?" Kate Hudson is currently frozen on the paused T.V screen kissing Matthew McConaughey.

A frustrated scoff made Kurt's lips dance. He grumbled, "I still haven't met Blaine's parents, and he has met mine, like, two million times."

"O-kay," I draw out. "What is this really about? We both know the reason behind you never meeting Blaine's parents." I don't want to even get started on how many time's Kurt bitches about Blaine's parents. I'm pretty sure I know more Blaine's parents than Blaine does. If you couldn't tell, sarcastic comment was sarcastic.

"Ugh, I can't hang out with Blaine because he's not allowed to text or call me this week."

"Blaine's parents want him to go to dinner with a girl."

"Why can't Blaine's parents call me his boyfriend; Blaine says they always call me his good friend."

"Blaine's parents keep asking him if he met a girl, yet. He finds it annoying."

"I'm not allowed to go over to Blaine's anymore. His parents don't want gay people over there anymore."

A heavy sigh sends my thoughts scrambling away. Kurt picks at my thick pink blanket he he's sitting cross legged upon. His fingers dig into the fur easy like dirt. He grumbles, "You're right. I guess what I mean is… is there something wrong with the way I look?"

"Okay, where the hell did that come from?" I said sporting a stunned expression. The popcorn bowl had fell off my lap, and popcorn ran across the bed finding an open area to fall into.

"And you said that we were on our periods." Rachel chimed. I shot her a glare because oh no she didn't.

"It's just that Blaine was texting Sebastian, again, and can't help but to wonder as to why. Is it because he thinks Sebastian is hot? Or maybe I'm just not that good looking?" Kurt murmured like a kid telling their parent they did something horrid.

Three things… Firstly, when did Kurt get so insecure? Secondly, screw that Sebastian kid he's causing way too much drama for everyone. Lastly, why the hell was Blaine texting him again after blinding him? Wait. Why would Blaine still keep texting Sebastian after he knew Kurt didn't like it, and Sebastian almost blinded him?

"Kurt," I started cautiously still figuring out the exact words. "How do you know Blaine's still texting Sebastian?"

"Well, his phone pops up with texts from Sebastian all the time, duh." Kurt explain not-so-well.

Rachel chimes in, again, from the Kurt sandwich we've created, "How do you know if Blaine's texting him back? Maybe Blaine's just ignoring him. Have you seen Blaine texting Sebastian back?"

"No but-"

"You should talk to Blaine about this. "

"Yeah, okay, so I look decently good looking then?"

I smirk a toothy smile, and say, "You look fantastic, amazing, drop dead gorgeous, Beyoncé should, really, be jealous of you."

Fifth time-

It's clockwork, really. I gradually stalked up the Hummel's staircase with each step yelling out a squeak at me. Once I push Kurt's door, I see him eyeing his reflection, again. Lights cage the mirror on the vanity, and glare at Kurt's perfect porcelain skin.

"Kurt, come on, you look fine." I grumbled. He jumped out of his skin at the sound of my voice.

He spook a soft tone whilst saying, "You're early."

"And you're judging yourself, again."

"Well," the word was drawn into a sigh. "It's just my senior prom night, and I want to look perfect."

"Perfect for a prom you're not even going to?" I quip.

A hat black like a blank T.V screen sits atop his head. The suit jacket hugging his white dress shirt matched the hat, and the flower on his chest was a perfect snowflake tying the whole outfit together. He looked picture perfect… as always. Classy. Fashion foreword. Elegant. Just generally awesome.

His hands start working into his hair like it was clay. The paled hands tug, rub, grind and shape incessantly. "Okay, fine, you look amazing, fantastic, drop dead gorgeous, Beyoncé should be jealous. You happy?" I huffed out. Honestly, how many times do I have to day that?

"Ecstatic." He wrapped his lanky fingers around my wrist. "Come on, Carol made Italian wedding soup." The scent smacked me in the face, and that damn scent of warm homeliness made me smile. "See? I knew that would make you smile."

I followed Kurt like a puppy down the stairs toward the dining room. Banging, clashing and clanging of dishes pooled the room, as everyone sat to eat the best damned soup in the world. Kurt, Finn, Rachel, Burt, Sam, Carole and I all, gladly, slurped it up.

After dinner, I told Kurt to go get his man. He bolted out of the building to do what I suggested. It was clockwork, really.

First time-

I was waiting outside of the boy's bathroom, for my plus one Sam Evens. My black heeled boots sank deep into the carpet a velvet colour. The clock dangling on the wall above me yelled out ticks, and, oh boy, was it really annoying. How long does it take a dude to pee? From experience it shouldn't take as long as Sam's been in there.

Kurt and Blaine's wedding has finally, after a million years of being engaged, arrived, and there's no way in hell I want to be spending my time lonesome in a hallway.

Sam came out looking a little sheepish? Worried? Confused? Whatever… I don't want to wait any longer. We've been here for twenty minutes, and I haven't even seen the ceremony area. Which is going to look more beautiful than Adam and Eve's garden if Kurt had planned it all out.

"Ugh, Mercedes we have a problem." Sam mumbled voice ghosting over my ear.

"What kind of problem?" I questioned back.

He nodded towards the bathroom, and mumbled a little louder, "Blaine's having a, like, freakin' panic attack in there."

Oh no.

My heart just fell into my stomach.

That can't be happening.

Sam looked intently at my dropped jaw and crunched eyebrows, and said, rushed, "It's not like he's going to leave or anything."

"Well, what is it?"

"Just, ugh, just go in there, and see for yourself. Actually, you may be able to help."

Dragged like a rag doll into the white public bathroom like any other, I see Blaine digging his finger deep into his tangled curls incessantly. His face was swamped with red, and a look of utter disgust was staring into his reflection. It hits me like a brick wall; this has happened before. Only not with Blaine.

"Hey Anderson." I smiled at him reassuringly, "You look good!"

"You're just saying that." He glared at the reflection glaring back at him.

Yup, déjà vu. "No way, doesn't he look dapper Sam?"

Sam bobbed his head so hard I'm shocked he didn't snap his neck. From the behind me he exclaimed, "Yeah! Like totally awesome, dude."

Breathlessly Blaine stumbled out the words, "Are you sure? I mean should I have worn hair gel? What if Kurt doesn't like my suit? Is it too simple? And why is my face so red? Should I be wearing-"

"Okay, take a breath." He followed my instruction. The breath shook violently, though. My smile never faded, as I tell him, "You look amazing, fantastic, drop dead gorgeous, Beyoncé would be jealous of you."

The heat on his face burned, and he looked down sporting a bashful smile, "Are you sure?"

"Okay," My hand gives his shoulder a hug. The white suit jacket was smooth, almost soft, under the tips of my fingers. "I remember there was this little kid named Kurt Hummel, and eight years ago he was freaking out like a giant ass spider crawled into his room. The reason he was freaking out was because he had his first date with a gorgeous private school boy named Blaine Anderson. You see where I'm going with this?"

With a huffed laugh, He nodded. I continued, "I gave him a speech about how awesome he looked and, he got his man. Now it's time to go get yours."

"O-kay, thank you so much Mercedes." He barely breathed out. His eyes danced away from the reflection, and bored into mine. All the nerves melted into the deep of the brown ocean swaying in his eyes.

"Anytime, white boy."

"Yeah, okay, so… do I look okay?"

With my never ending smile, I say, "Better than okay." He fled out the room fast as if someone set the room on fire. I turn to Sam, whose dopey smile, made me smile wider than the ocean.

"Where the hell would they be if it weren't for you?"

I reply, "Probably in the same place. Just a hell of a lot more nervous."

The ceremony was beautiful, as I expected. The whole area looked as if we were flown up into the sky, and were lost in the cloud. Angels would die of envy from the pureness of the room. Kurt looked awed at Blaine; his jaw hit the ground, hard. Blaine got his man. Kurt got his man. It was, as quoted from Sam, 'totally the most awesome gay wedding in the whole universe.'

 _ **A/N- READ! Like, review, follow? Only if you want to… no pressure. Also, give me prompts? Please? Lastly, I don't own Glee; just using the characters for my own amusement. Have a good day!**_


	4. Rachel's brother

I, Rachel Berry, have a brother that is a grade under me and is nearly two years younger. His birthday is in November whist mine is in January. I knew I had a brother, duh, but Kurt (who is staying over right now) hadn't any idea. Which I find crazy that I hadn't introduced them because they're both gay and lonely and awesome.

My brother's name is Blaine Anderson. He has a different last name than the rest of the family, for he had been adopted from an abusive couple. Poor little bow tie wearing Blaine. My little brother was adorable to say the least. I wouldn't be surprised if Kurt actually swooned the first time meeting him.

It was nearing time to slip into pyjamas and crawl into bed. The sun dipped behind the horizon and crickets sang. My dads were gone on their weekly Friday night date which meant it was mine and Kurt's weekly slumber party. I honestly don't know where Blaine is. He was always gone somewhere on Friday nights, so I'm pretty that's where he is right now.

Kurt stood up from my pink bed frozen as if someone had hit pause on his life. Kurt murmured, "Did you hear that?"

"What?"

The moaning of a door opening was heard. Kurt said, "That!"

I knew it was probably just Blaine. I replied, "That was just my brother."

"You have a brother?" He asked, scandalized. Right… he never met my brother, nor have I told him anything about Blaine.

"He's in grade nine, and adopted from two parents completely different from my dad's. We're not related… at all. But I-" thundering footsteps down the hallway followed by the harsh shriek of a door next to my room closing cut me off. I continued, "He's just being moody."

"Oh."

"He's gay, too." I said feeling a little smirk slip onto my face.

Breathlessly, Kurt asked, "Can I go met him?" He had already been moving towards the door with ears perked up and a gentle smile upon his face.

"Of course. Why would deny a chance of my brother and my best friend to date?"

We walked out into the hallway, and I was face to face to his door. My knocking was followed by a muffled go away.

"He's just being moody," I whispered to Kurt. "Blaine! There's no lock, so I can just waltz in here!"

Another muffled please go away poured out from behind the door. I had shrugged at Kurt. He was taking hesitant steps towards me with a sheepish look stapled to his face. I didn't know if it was from the little pleas of go away, or the fact he had never met another gay kid. I don't know. Moaning as I opened it, the door had shade pool out of it, and not a yellow light like I expected. Once I walked in, the back of Blaine's blue hoodie bathed my view. His back trembled as if it were going through something straining even though he was just standing there. I took a couple steps into the room, and with every noise he flinched. Why was he flinching? Whispering his name, I had forgot about Kurt who was sneaking in the room.

He turned around, and I felt my heart thump into my stomach. Tears were running all over the terrain of his cheek. Black, blue, purple and even some yellow trapped his eye. His lip was split, a thick cut on his neck looking like a cherry pie and blood trickled down his forehead. My heart threw itself hard into my chest, and the air was sucked out of the room

"Blaine, what happened?" I asked with a voice just above a whispered.

"I-I-I," he stammered. Until I heard a gasp from behind me, I hadn't notice the front of his hoodie was no longer blue. It was red.

"Kurt! Can you go get the first aid kit from the bathroom?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course." Kurt bolted out of the room as if it burned him.

"Blaine…" he looked at me with his eyes that looked so much like a kicked puppy's. His face held no emotions; he looked completely dazed. Mouth hanging open only the slightest. "Blaine, tell me what happened." I honestly didn't want to know what happened. Especially if it was what I think I was.

"I was walking back from my guitar lessons, and these people from my-my class were t-there and-and-and…" His breath was starting to run out. he didn't need to finish the sentence, and I really didn't need him having a panic attack.

"Okay I need you to breath." He sucked in a deep breath that shook violently when released. "My friend that you just saw is Kurt. His step mom is a nurse, so he's going to patch you up then were going to phone dad."

"No."

"No?"

"We are not phoning our parents."

"Why not, Blaine?"

Kurt came into the room with medical supplies spilling out of his arms. He said, "I got the stuff!"

"We'll talk about this later." I whispered to Blaine.

Kurt knelt in front of my brother, and started poking at him and bandaging him up. I stood back feeling a burn of bile inching up my throat. That was my little brother. He looked as if he ran through a war zone or something. People did this to him. I feel disgusted.

"Blaine, I need you to look left."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

I wasn't really paying attention to their conversation. I was trying to calm all the emotions storming in my head. Anger. Sorrow. Rage. Crestfallen. Confused. Lost. At one point Kurt's lips ran into Blaine's nose; my brother blushed a red deeper than a rose. Kurt even got him laughing at one point. Blaine had Kurt giggling, but it all went to hell when Kurt asked, "Can you take off your hoodie and shirt."

Blaine's breath was sputtered and mixed with pleas of don't and go away. Kurt was trying to shush him while I repeated over and over again like a broken record that it was okay. I knew it wasn't. Whatever caused the blood to spill all over his hoodie was not stopping, and I had no idea how to calm him down. His freaking out was causing panic to my own to start boiling.

"Blaine! For the love of god if you don't take off that hoodie, I will call our dads right now!"

He froze. He slowly peeled off his sweatshirt. He slipped off the now red shirt (it was white). He sucked in a breath. I stopped breathing. Kurt looked so pale he could've been a ghost. We were standing in the middle of the room in a triangle formation. Red letters oozing from his chest all the way into his pants spelt 'fag'. The red letters snarled at us. I almost backed out of the room. This wasn't real. It was a dream. It wasn't real. My little brother didn't have that written on him. He didn't. It was a dream. Why was everything so hazy?

"Blaine, it's okay." Kurt said at some point. A faint sound of hard sobs snapped me out of this haze that was forming in front of me. The sobs sounded so sorrow and painful. It was as if the person throat was tearing apart from them. That person was my brother.

He was gripping onto Kurt like a lifeline. The shirt Kurt was wearing was dripping in blood now too. Kurt cleaned, medicated and bandaged my brother's torso, as the tears and snot poured out his face like a never ending waterfall. Kurt tucked him into his bed whispering promises of it'll be okay until his eyes closed and snores pooled out from his mouth. He turned to me, "Rachel…" that's when I notice how wet my cheeks were. How sore my eyes felt.

"That's my baby brother."

"I know, Rach. Let's go out to the living room and drink some tea or something." So that's what we did. A cup of hot tea was wrapped inside and burning my fingers, but I didn't care enough to peel them off. I couldn't look up at Kurt. My mind was blurred with bloodied letters.

"You okay?"

"Are you seriously asking me that?"

"You look like you're going to puke or something."

I felt like puking. After swallowing the frog sitting in my throat, I said, "I-I don't think I'm ever going to un-see that."

"I wouldn't expect you too."

"And what the hell am I supposed to tell my dad's! 'Oh hey! By the way your son has a bad word engraved on his chest.'" I nearly screamed. Kurt hushed me—to my annoyance—that I was going to wake up Blaine. "Also, how were you so good in that situation? I did nothing. My brother was beaten, and I stood there like a fool."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. I was good there only because I actually know stuff about medication and I've never met your brother before. If it was someone close to me, I would've freaked out."

A deep breath tickled my wet lips, and I replied, "I don't even want to know the whole story. Does that make me selfish?"

"No, it doesn't. Don't be hard on yourself, Rach. He'll be fine."

"Hopefully."

A few minutes of silence passed, and I needed to take my mind of… that. In a much happier tone than the night has been going, I asked, "So… did you think my brother was cute?"

"Really Rachel?"

"Just answer the question. We need a different subject to dwell ourselves on."

A wave of thought crashed over him before he answered, "On different terms, yes, I would think he was adorable."

"Ha! You could be my future in-law!"

"Oh lord save me."

We bantered back and forth. The pervious events temporally meandered its way out of my head. I had been glad for that.

"Kurt! My wardrobe is not that bad."

"I'm pretty sure your clothes came crawling out of my dead grandma's closet."

"Whatever."

All the memories, though, rushed in my head and flooded it, as hesitant footsteps descended the stairs. I was tense. I don't know why. He's my brother I shouldn't be afraid to see him. I don't think I was scared to see him, but terrified of seeing the damage that was done. Little thumps went into the kitchen then finally to the dining table Kurt and I had vacated.

Hidden under his breath Blaine said, "Hello."

"Couldn't sleep?" Kurt asked, and, oh, how I envied his casualness to the situation.

"N-no, I-"he cleared his throat. "I can't stop seeing them."

"If you want, you can come sit down."

"If you don't mind, I would love to."

He sat to the left of me, and across the way from Kurt. A tension choked the room. I didn't know what to say. Kurt didn't know what to say. Blaine didn't know what to say. Silence was stretching over minutes agonizingly slow making them feel like hours passed. There had been the sound of a clock ticking away in someone's room, but it was faint.

"I wanted to apologize for how I acted earlier. I was freaked out, well, still am, but I just wanted to say sorry." Blaine filled the silence.

"Wow, you definitely not like your sister… She would never apologize about how she acted even though she's the one out of the two of you that should."

"Hey!" I shrieked. Blaine laughed. I had to take a breath from the amount of relief that smacked me. He laughed. That's great. That's actually fantastic.

"Blaine you don't need to apologize. You're my best friend's brother. It's okay."

Blaine looked down with a red spilled all over his cheeks, and replied, "Yeah, I just feel better if I do. I'm really, really embarrassed if I'm being completely honest."

"Don't be embarrassed! Now, I wanted to know if you would like to dance with me."

"Even after-"

Kurt cut him off, "Don't you dare finish that sentence."

"Well then my good sir Kurt, I would love to dance."

Mirroring Blaine's redden cheeks, Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand, and led him to the living room. They both slow danced with the faint voice of Katy Perry playing in the background. Yup, Kurt Hummel is totally going to be my brother in-law.

Later that night Blaine woke up screaming for people to get off of him. I felt like my funeral bell rang after I heard that. Thank god Kurt was there to calm him down. I don't think I could. There was a long road of recovery ahead of us, but I think that Kurt's going to be walking alongside us the whole way there.

 **Authors note: I know… cheesy ending and darker fic. Prompts? And! I don't own glee and if I did, it would basically be the Klaine show. To be honest.**


	5. Sam's curiousity

**Author's note- prompts? Also, go check out 'That Playground' for a blam friendship fic.**

I wasn't the only glee dude that was curious. Curious about what you may ask. Well, this is going to sound kind of weird, but Kurt and Blaine's sex life. I mean they never, like, touch at school. The most they'll do is give loving eyes or the occasional touch of shoulder. Sometimes they decide to get really scandalous and touch hand. I know, crazy. The guys and I just wanted to know if they even kissed. Of course Mike being Mike told Tina everything. When I say everything, I mean everything. Anyways, that caused all the girls wanting to in on the guys plan to make ourselves not curious about Kurt and Blaine's sex life—or whatever you would call that.

That's how I found myself alongside the rest of the glee club in Rachel's basement. Finn set up cameras in their house, and Artie did some technical work or something, so we could watch it on laptop screens. We got six of them in total. Two set up in the living room—one facing the big couch and one at an eagle eye. Two set up in Kurt's bedroom—one facing the bed and one on the nightstand. There was only one set up in the kitchen, and the last one was set up in the hallway leading to Kurt's bedroom. It was almost like a reality show which is pretty awesome in itself.

"Okay, I can't wait any longer. When do they back from their date?" Santana grumbled from her spot seated in front of the laptop facing the couch. All the laptops were sprinkled across the carpet. I was watching the one at an eagle eye in the living room. Which I think is logical because that's where I usually start my making out after a date. So… that's where Kurt and Blaine should start.

"They'll be home any second," Finn reassured everyone from across the room away from the laptops. He was the only one not curious for a good reason. You know… because Kurt's his stepbrother and all. Yeah you probably got it. On cue, Kurt and Blaine came tumbling into the living room giggling as if drunk. I nearly screamed because they were, like, touching each other's shoulders.

"Are they drunk?" I asked.

"Off love!" Tina sighed in a blissed state. She was probably enjoying herself. As a hard core Klaine shipper, alongside Tina, I can say that I'm over the moon at what's going to happen. Kurt turned around, and he trapped Blaine in between himself and the door while the door squeaked closed in the process. A very smooth move; one I attempt a lot.

Blaine laughed, "Very smooth, Kurt."

"I try." Kurt's breathe tickling Blaine's lips. They kissed, and the room went wild. Girls were shrieking noises of utter delight. Boys, including me, were wolf whistling, hooting, hollering—actually I was probably the loudest out of all the dudes if I'm being completely honest. It's just that they kissed! They actually kissed! Their lips made actually contact. This shit deserves a full round of applause from an audience.

Rachel was shushing everyone so hard I'm pretty sure she spat everywhere. Silence filled up the room until Kurt broke it.

"So… what do you want to do?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, come on! You never know what to do. Your always such a push-over" Kurt huffed. He backed away from Blaine, and I mentally screamed. Dude! Go back and get your man.

"A push-over or am I just pleasing my man?" Blaine asked with a smirk.

"Definitely a push-over." Sitting on the couch, Kurt crossed his arms.

Blaine crawled his way into Kurt's lap, so his knees were trapping Kurt's waist. I may or may not have a shouted an overjoyed yes, but there's no evidence of me doing so. Blaine's hand explored their way from Kurt's arms to his shoulders and settling behind his neck. I'm just going to say this is awesome. I wish I had some Doritos or something.

"Yo, Finn, you're not doing anything interesting. Go get bring down some chips or something." Puck just read my mind. Finn came back downstairs with some popcorn. It's not Doritos, but I guess I can settle with it.

Blaine said, "Okay, I say we should make out."

"Way to be so romantic, Blaine."

"What? This is me not being a push-over."

"Fine." And oh-my-god their using tongue. It's like their mouths are trying to claim each other or search for each other.

"Get it Anderson!"

"Holy shit! They're actually touching."

"Why aren't they naked yet?"

"Yassss! Kurt!"

Everyone was yelling their own little hoots. Kurt dug his finger nails deep into Blaine's skull. Loose curls started to spring out of their gel trap. I was smiling so hard it hurt. I was legit so happy.

Bumping his lip into Blaine's, Kurt said in a breathless whisper, "Want to go upstairs?"

I was speechless alongside everyone else in the room. The sound of silence hung over the room. Dude…

"Of course." Blaine was off the couch like it burned him.

I had to move over to the laptop that was facing their bed, for Kurt and Blaine had sprinted there in record time. They were rolling around on the bed like wrestlers and attacking each other's skin with their mouths. Jaws had been dropped all the way down to the floor. Mine was shut sporting a big ass smirk. My gaybies aren't that baby-ish I guess.

"Kurt, I want to ride you."

"Wow, maybe I was wrong about you being a push-over."

"I told you… I was just trying to please my man."

Kurt hummed while squeezing Blaine's ass, and damn Hummel. Kurt's whisper was barley heard through the laptops, "If you want to please me, then you should give me a blowjob."

The screens shut off, and black pooled all over the house. It was a blackout. A round of boos and aw's roared through everyone. Well, that was bad timing for a black out.


	6. Kurt's defintion of volnerability

Vulnerability

Vulnerability. Mr. Shuster had described it as the ability to sing without using theatrics and dancing to get a point across, and share something with your audience. I personally think it's about opening up something inside of you that shows your inner insecurities. Blaine thought about it as the quality or stat of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed with physically or emotionally. The exact definition. Yes, my boyfriend was definitely having some troubles with this week's assignment. Once Mr. Shuster wrote _vulnerability_ on the whiteboard in a blue marker, Blaine's eyebrows crunched so close they could have been touching. Of course when I saw it, a million ideas were whipping inside of my head fast like a tornado. I'm pretty sure in that moment Blaine's brain had never been so blank. School ended that day, and we both sat on my bed scribbling out idea atop a loose-leaf paper in my binder. Well, my ideas were scratched on while Blaine nodded dumbly to my non-stop moving mouth.

Today was Tuesday. The day we start out performances. I have decided to sing 'Seasons of Love' from Rent, but only with the piano and my voice. This performance has to be moving. I'm hoping I'll be able to express my love for my mother, and the memories I hold oh so ever dear.

"Okay, guys," Mr. Shuster's voice bellowed. "We'll, start off with three performances then spend the rest of the time working on 'I Believe I Can Fly'. Who wants to start us off?" I had for sure thought that Rachel's hand would've shot up into the air like a knife cutting through the air. That hand, though, was Santana. Everyone was looked at her, and dropped their jaws.

"What?" She said. "I mean, I get that I'm a bitch, but I have emotions."

Mr. Shuster with a hand gesturing towards the floor of the choir room said, "The floor is your Santana."

"I think he meant Satan," I said voice mumbled under my breath to Blaine. His chest huffed out a laugh, and he smiled _that_ smile. That smile that gets my heart to pound hard into my chest. The one that bears his teeth so white angels are envious. I smile back. Music spilling into the room shakes my attention to the floor with a lonesome Santana. She starts singing 'There Are Worse Things I Could Do'. With a sad smirk, she looked a Britany a few times. Cute, I guess. When she was done, the room rumbled with an applause.

"So Santana…" Mr. Shuster started standing up while slamming his hands into each other. "Can you explain why that was vulnerable?" Oh great. He's going to make everyone open up, and share with the group. What a great idea. Yes, I definitely rolled my eyes at that. Why does a performance need a reason for it to be vulnerable? You're already displaying your emotions bare in front of people in the most vulnerable way. It's already a story when it's a performed. You don't really need the background when you already have all the information.

"Well," she drew out. "I'm basically saying that even though I was a whore there were worst things I could do. Just like the song said, for anyone who didn't get that? Also. I wasn't going to wait for Mr. Right when I'm a lesbian."

"I totally think Mr. Shuster meant to say Satan," Blaine whispered voice tickling my ears. I laugh. That was funny.

"Great job Santana," Mr. Shuster said. "Shall we move on?"

Next was Rachel singing so emotionally she made herself cry, but no one else in the room. Typical. Following that was Mike who had really surprised me with an uplifting song obviously about his father. Tomorrow was going to be me, Britany, Mercedes and Rory preforming. After the practice, I caught up to Blaine who was digging around in his locker with fast hands. Little huffs and puffs spewing from his mouth. He was very cute when he got frazzled. Strutting up to him, I smiled, and asked, "What are you looking for?"

"My science notes," He said with a growled.

"Okay," I said calmly. "What's going on?"

"I just," He sighed. "I found out that I suck at being vulnerable, and I've never had this much trouble with an assignment before."

"You don't suck at it. You're vulnerable with me all the time," I whisper back feeling an amused smile appearing on my face.

He stepped back, and tightened his lips while saying, "Like when?"

Now an amused smile was definitely spread across my face. He was vulnerable all the time. It's adorable how he doesn't realize that. For example: during our first time together (and no I'm definitely _not_ blushing) he confessed that he had wanted to bottom because he didn't want the pressure that he had to be the man in the relationship. He had wanted to prove that we were equals in the relationship. Also, when he told me about his insecurities about being left alone or behind, that was vulnerability.

"What do you think vulnerability is?" I asked.

"I just," he huffed after slamming his locker hard with a sharp bang. "I don't know!"

"I think you do. You just need to figure it out," I said hushed. Rubbing his neck that was clenched tight like vice.

Blaine replied all anger giving up, "This is harder to figure out than that goddamn five-thousand piece jigsaw puzzle Cooper bought."

"Come on," I exclaimed tugging on his hand clenched in a fist. "I'll help you out tonight."

"Okay."

Today was Tuesday. Third day into the assignment, and Blaine's brain had been blanker than snow. Last night had been no help at all considering it transformed into a full dry-hump make out session. Which am I pleased to say I initiated. So yes, Sebastian the ugly ass Meer cat, I am not some baby face gay virgin thank you very much. Mr. Shuster had just called me up to sing, and I stand lonesome in the middle of the choir room. After clearing my voice, I say, "Because I know Mr. Shuster's going to ask anyways, I'm just going to say what this is about. It's about my late mother, and all I have to remember her by. So piano… want to start?" My hands no longer shake when I sing, and my heart holds a steady calm beat in my chest. I got over the fear of singing in front of an audience with the help of Blaine. I close my eyes, and try to let the sound of the piano swallow me. I pretend no one is around. I just me and the song and my mother. I smile when I see her gentle gorgeous smile, and her perfect lips colored like a rose.

 _Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes_

 _Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred moment so dear_

I hadn't realized the song ended until the sound of applause scattered my thoughts like thieves in police light. Mr. Shuster clapped me on the shoulder, and he said, "That was done very, very well. Great job."

With a nod, I go to sit beside Blaine who slipped his fingers between mine. He whispered words dripping with adoration, "You still move me, Kurt."

"You know," I said. "You lied to me."

"What?"

"You are really good at romance."

It was Thursday night. While I was laying atop of my bedsheets blue like a deep part of the ocean head hugged by my fluffy pillow, Blaine was pacing a hole in my floor words spilling out of mouth. Earlier today Finn, Sam, Quinn had sung. The only people left were Puck, Tina, Artie and Blaine. The latter was freaking out. The sheet we tried to pool up with ideas only had one thing written down on it, and it was the definition of vulnerability. Blaine starts to pull his hairs out of the gel cages their locked in. I need to pull the plug here on his anger pity party. I hate seeing him so frustrated. I can literally see the waves of stress crashing on him.

"Blaine!" I yell. "Can you please calm down? Is there anything I can help with?"

"Can you give me a song to sing?" He asked stopping abruptly in the middle of my carpeted room.

I sighed, and said, "No, but I wish I could because I hate seeing you so stressed out."

Blaine walked over. He collapsed into my chest, as he said, "What do I have to sing about? What am I supposed to sing about?"

"I think that's for you to figure out." I wrapped my arms around the back of his shoulders like a blanket. I felt the hot air of his huff against my shirt seep onto my chest.

"I just," he starts taking a breath. "I just realized that no one in this club really knows anything about me. Neither did the warblers, I guess. It's really hard for me to talk about my feeling and insecurities. You know? Open up to people. I just don't know how am going to this. It's my life. I don't need to tell them anything."

"Then sing this song for yourself," I say with a gentle smile.

"What?" he said back lifting his cheek off of my chest, and replacing it with his chin. His eyes shining like a golden honey looking for an answer.

"Sing it for yourself. Nobody in the room has to know what you're singing about."

"But-"

"Expose yourself to yourself. But do note that being vulnerable with someone can be the best feeling in the world," I say petting his hairs where the gel was loosening up the curls a little bit.

"I do feel the best with you, and you're probably the person I am the most vulnerable with. I think I have a song," Blaine whispered. I feel a ghost of a smile on my lips. He's got this. He's going to do amazing. As always.

It's Friday. Blaine's called up. After he runs a hand through his hairs and rubs it against the other, he stalks up to the front of the choir room. He's nervous. I can tell. Mr. Shuster gives him the okay to begin, and he grabs the microphone stand and stands behind it. An un-familiar guitar riff pools up the room, as Blaine clears his throat. He starts to sing; I can feel my heart pounding for him. I cross my jean coated legs and listen.

 _Well, when you go_

 _Don't ever think I'll make you try to stay_

 _And maybe when you get back_

 _I'll be off to find another way_

He doesn't look at anyone choosing the spot on the floor just before everyone else. I can still see his eyes shimmering like honey in sunlight.

 _And after all this time that you still owe_

 _You're still the good-for-nothing I don't know_

 _So take your gloves and get out_

 _Better get out_

 _While you can_

I've never heard this song, but I can tell it means a lot to Blaine. His voice is raw spewing out lyrics that a bear with emotions. It actually kind of weird to watch him without his swoon worthy smile, and dance moves that always end up atop a piece of furniture.

 _When you go_

 _Would you even turn to say?_

 _I don't love you_

 _Like I did_

 _Yesterday_

Turning around to look at the other members of the audience to see that their seeing something un-expected. I don't know what they had prepared to see, but it definitely wasn't this. Their face dripped with pure shock, and eyes blown wide.

 _Well come on, come on_

 _When you go_

 _Would you have the guts to say?_

 _I don't love_

 _Like I loved you yesterday._

He finished the song, and hesitant round of clapping started. Blaine was blinking back tears. I know.

"Wow," Mr. Shuster clapped. "That was very moving Blaine care to tell us what it was about?"

"Well," Blaine said after taking in a heavy breath that quavered. "My dad for one, actually." He laughed awkwardly. "But also about the fact that I don't open up to people, I don't like being vulnerable, because I'm scared that they're going to leave. That they won't like me or want me if I'm anything less than perfect. That they'll see the real me, and be scared of what's there."

"Well, thank you for sharing Blaine. That was amazing. Everyone give another clap!"

Blaine wasn't looking at Mr. Shuster though. He was staring directly at me, and I gave a nod. He did it. He was vulnerable. It was to someone who wasn't me. I ran down the stairs of the choir room and gulped him up with my arms. He smiled, and said, "Your right. I do feel pretty good right now."

 **Pretty much a fanfic showing Blaine, and his fear of opening up to people. The songs features were 'Seasons of Love' from Rent and 'I Don't Love You' by My Chemical Romance.**


	7. Wes Is Not A Docter

Wes is not a doctor

So Blaine's sick, and not just like a cough, cough I'm over it sick. No. He's been hunched over the toilet bowl for the past half an hour hacking up every intestine inside his little body. You'd think that this would be our biggest problem right now. No. Outside there's a storm filling the street immensely with snow caught in violent winds. There's no school considering the fact that most of the students in dorm couldn't reach the main building where all the class were. There's no Warbler's practice which is un-acceptable when it's so close to regionals. There's no power. There's no way to get out, and I am most definitely not a doctor. For the past half an hour I've sat on the bed arms wrapped around my knees building up tears that are stuck in the ducts of my eyes. My face puckered up like a lemon was shoved in my mouth when I heart a particular throat ripping retch. The incessant sound of the whistling wind is a good distraction from the hostile gags pouring out from Blaine and I's shared bathroom. It was a good distraction, but not a complete on. Now, the four hard thumps on our door was a fantastic distraction. I get up, and crack open the door. A bright white light spills into the dark room. I was met with Thad holding a flashlight.

"Hey!" He exclaimed. "We're playing some board games in the foyer if you- is Blaine okay?" He trailed off voice, now, dripping in concern.

"No," I sigh. "He's most definitely not okay, but I can't help him out with my bad gag reflex."

He asks, "Is he sick."

I gesture for him to come in where moans are now slipping out from our bathroom. "Yeah," he says. "Most definitely sick. Can I go see him?"

"Yeah, sure, I most certainly will not be in your way," I reply. I watch Thad swing open the bathroom door, and I little yellow light emits from the doorway. I had put candles around the room for some light before Blaine got sick. I've been avoiding that bathroom like it was hell itself. As much as Blaine is one of my best friends I'm not fine with being acquainted with his disease. It's quite anomalous in here. Our dorm room is certainly quiet without him running and vaulting around like a pup. Sitting back down on my bed, I close my eyes and pretend Blaine is definitely not puking 12 feet away from me. Maybe an allusion would help. Thad and Blaine are just spending some well needed quality time brushing their teeth amongst each other.

"Hey, bud, how you doing?" I hear Thad say from in the bathroom. An un-legible grumbled had followed alongside a dry heave.

"Come on," Thad said. "Let's get you up off the floor. Do you want to get into bed?"

No.

No.

Blaine can stay in the bathroom, and completely out of my sight thank you very much. I don't need his body enveloped in a mist of disease anywhere near me. Plus, what if he wants throws up in front of me. Revolting. A dry gag leaves my throat.

I hear a gasp from the bathroom, and Thad says breathlessly, "Holy shit, Blaine! You're burning up so much."

"Mmmmmm," Blaine moaned back. "Thanks Einstein." Well. At least he still has his sarcasm, so he's not dying. That's good.

A figure stumbles out of the bathroom in a hurry, and it bolts across the dorm room. It was Thad. He nearly stumbled over the dresser at the feet of the Blaine's bed closest to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"To go get Hummel. His step-mother's a nurse, so he'll know what to do," Thad answered. A smirk lifted his lips. "And it'll be an excuse for him to see Blaine without a shirt on." Everyone in the Warblers know about Kurt's not so subtle crush on Blaine. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole school knew about it. He trails Blaine around like a puppy trying to keep up with his owner. With the eyes he gives Blaine when he talks or sings, he should just be saying I love you please notice me.

"He's not wearing a shirt?" I ask. "Isn't he cold?"

Thad answered making the door shriek as he opens it, "Well, yeah, probably, but there's a shirt on the bathroom floor with puke on it."

"Oh god," I grumble feeling my stomach drop while a little bile crawls up my throat. Swallowing it down, I close my eyes to hear the loud bang of the door shutting. When I open them, I see another figure walk out of the bathroom swaying much like a willow in the wind. Well, Thad was gone, so that must mean that figure is Blaine. Who is sick. Who can puke at me any minute. Or just puke in my line of vision any time.

"No," I say. "Get back in there."

Blaine rolls his eyes, and grumbles, "Just- just calm down. It's not like I haven't puked on you before."

"Doesn't make it less mortifying."

"Relax," Blaine says closing his eyes, and oh my god he's not going to puke right now is he? "I'm just trying to find some Tylenol or Advil."

"Just hurry up, and don't puke. Okay?" I reply looking at our large wood door color that was stained the same color as chocolate. I hear some lazy shuffling behind me, and some closing, shutting and rustling of drawers. It was true… that he puked on me before. It just wasn't really a pleasant time that I enjoy talking about. When Blaine first came to Dalton, he would jump at any physical contact. His eyes were always close at the sound of loud banging noises. He was put in my dorm room because the dean had thought I'd be able to help him out. Which I had after I introduced him to the Warblers, but he barley talked at that time nonetheless sung in front of anyone. I invited to come because he needed more friends than just me and his Harry Potter books. He was a little scared cutie back then. Like a turtle tucked in his shell that only came out when you offered to watch Lord of the Rings with him. One day I found him sitting at the piano spilling out his heart in a song, and I told him he must try out for the Warblers. Being the shy introverted kid he was back then, he was shaking like an old pattered washing machine at the time of his audition. After he sung in front of the crowd, he looked like was a ghost, and I rushed him out of the room where he proceeded to get sick. All. Over. Me. To this day I still don't know who was more traumatized.

"Crap!" I heard Blaine groaned behind me.

"What?" I asked. "You're not going to puke are you? Because I will gladly show you the way out of the room."

"No, it's just that we only have gravel, and it's all out," he growled voice tight.

I answered back, "Kurt's coming up to mend you. I'm sure he'll have something."

The sound of silence hung in the room for a brief amount of moments, and all movement stilled until Blaine shrieked, "He's coming up? He's going to see me all weak and gross and sick and-"

Blaine was cut off by the sound of violent bangs on the door. Thank god. Sick Blaine was no longer my problem. I sank back to into my bed letting the fluffy pillow engulf it, and I finally take a peek at Blaine. He was shirtless, for one. I've never seen his curls so wild they looked like a tangled jungle, and his lips were as pale as his skin which was taking the color of snow. Nauseating. His movements was clumsy, and he walked around like he could barely hold his own body weight.

"Blaine, you look really bad," I say.

"Thanks," He grumbles back, as the door burst open with six bodies stumbling in with arms over flowing with supplies. I sigh with relief. Blaine runs off to the bathroom, and room fills up again with heaves alongside sounds of sympathy. Kurt, Thad, Trent, Nick, Jeff and David all filling up the room with their bodies and board games. Board games? Does that mean that the games down in the foyer were being temporarily withdrawn? Does that mean I'm still stuck in here with a sickened Blaine? At the very least there's people here to attend to-

Oh lord…

There goes that awful retching, again.

Kurt cooed, "Aw, poor Blaine."

"Aw, poor Kurt gets to take care of a shirtless, helpless, cuddly, pathetic, sick Blaine," David teased with a knowing smirk we all have been acquainted with. Rolling his eyes ignoring the red spilt across his cheeks, Kurt stalked into the bathroom. Lord have mercy on him.

"So," Trent smiled looking at me while the bed sinks my legs when he sits. "Still not over your fear of barf?"

"More like the absolute terror and anxiety it ensues on him when someone sneezes," David said while he sat upon the floor pulling out a game of connect four with Thad.

"Oh hush," I grumble back. "Shall I bring a few tarantulas next Warblers practice?"

"No." The answer was immediate, and I felt a smirk lift up my lip. "No, no. Who said anything about germs? No one? Right."

Ha, David should know not to tease me when I counter anything with all of his secrets. That's what happens when you've been best friends five years and counting.

"Wait…" Jeff started with eyebrows strained so close together they nearly touched. "I thought Trent had said something and David you literally just said Wes was scared of a sneeze!"

"David was being sarcastic because he doesn't want Wes to bring tarantulas to practice," Nick replied rubbing his hands up and downs Jeff's shoulders slow like intimate massage. Over the years Nick had to be a translator for Jeff when sarcasm or witty words were used in a conversation. Actually, a sigh dripped in relief always escapes my lips after Nick explains instructions to Jeff, so I don't have to. Jeff's kind of stupid, and I mean that in the most loving way possible. The warblers are family. We're a 'fam jam' as David always says.

Sounds of water rushing around in the bathroom caught everyone's attention. Guess the powers back. David and Thad sitting atop the black stained carpet left their Connect Four chips lonesome. The idle conversation between me and Thad hushed. Jeff and Nick laying on Blaine's bed broke apart their arm wrestle, and peeped at the bathroom. Were they- no, they're just friends… they can't be showering together. Everyone else seemed to have somewhat of similar ideas to mine.

Thad started, "Are they-"

David cut him off with a bullet fired from his mouth, "Shhhhhhhhh!"

"Why-" I started only to be cut off with another vicious 'Shhhhhhhhh'.

He crawled over to the bathroom door fast like a dog running towards the call for supper. Everyone, including me, just rolled their eyes at his antics (Because he's David, and David does some weird ass things), but then his body is taken over by hysterical giggles. While I lay on my bed, all the others rumble over to the door and pile at the bottom. The giggles spread like an infectious disease. Well, crap, now I'm curious. But… the barf….

Well, fuck.

After turning on the lights, thank god for the power that has returned, I join the huddle by the bathroom door. Muffled words were blocked by the bodies, and the thick bathroom door. I still couldn't quite hear what was going on in the bathroom. Pushing my way through the huddle the words become more clear, and a smile appears on my face.

"Blaine! Just get in the goddamn bath!"

"No! It's mad at me!"

"The bathtub has no feelings, Blaine."

"But I barfed on him…"

"Which is the exact reason why you, good sir. Need. To. Get. In. there."

"Hey, hey, hey let's just go cuddle, and you know, go talk to the other guys."

"Blaine you have puke all over you, and I really don't want Wes to pass out."

"But the bath hates me!"

"Oh my god!"

"Hey, Kurt!" Trent calls oh so sweetly. "Do you need some help? Want me to grab anything?"

"Yes, please!" Kurt huffed back. "Wait are you guys ease dropping?"

"No-"

"Totally-"

"What's ease dropping?"

"Sorry-"

"It's listening to a conversation, Jeff."

This is worse than an un-organized Warblers practice…

"Ugh," Kurt huffed, again. "Can you grab the gravel from my bag? Please?"

"Of course!" Trent hollered back. He goes around the corner back to where the beds were, and there was some jostling of pills. Stepping over everyone, Trent goes to open the bathroom door. No. No. No. the door swings open and there's Blaine dressed in navy boxer laying half propped against the toilet and oh-my-god-that's-a-lot-puke.

…

…

…

"Wesley, are you awake?" a voice far, far, far away says, and yes, I'm awake, idiot. My eyes are just closed. When I blink them open to a brightly lit room, and all I can see is heads. Six of them, to be exact. Sighs of relief blow onto my skin. Gross. I don't know why they feel the need to hunch do close to me I can honestly feel the tickle of their eyelashes.

"Guys," I say. "May you please back up?"

"Yes, of course," Thad? I think relied. It sounded like Thad. "David back the hell up!"

All of the heads pop out of my sight, and I met with the sight of the ceiling. Why is everyone here? In Blaine and I's dorm."

"What happened?" I asked. God, my throat feels tight.

David, I'll always be able to recognize that voice, laughed, "You passed out when you say Blaine in the bathroom bathing in puke."

Puke?

Oh right, Blaine's sick, and he was puking. Heaving immensely in the bathroom when everyone came in, and Kurt went in and…

I swallow, and just barely squeak out, "Right."

"But hey!" David continues in an obnoxiously enthusiastic way that makes me clench my jaw. "Kurt managed to get Blaine's fever down, man, you missed quite the show. We had to text Cooper to see what was going on, but apparently Blaine gets all loopy with a fever. Hilarious."

"It's not that funny considering his fever was at a 103.2," A higher voice than the rest snaps. That-that must be Kurt.

"I'm sorry," David retorts in a way that drips with anything but apologetic.

Sitting up with sluggish movements, I see board games spilled all over the floor. I hate messes. Okay, maybe I should leave the room if Blaine is still sick because passing out again is anything but the image I need to hold. To my right there was a lump of blankets lying next to Kurt who was rubbing his hand all over it with gentle strokes. When it grumbled out a moan, I knew it was Blaine.

Kurt whined, "Oh my god, David! You woke him up! He needs his sleep."

"Is he still sick?" I spew out fast.

"No," Kurt replies. "Well, yes, actually, he still has a little fever, but hasn't puked in a half an hour."

Half an hour? No, that doesn't- doesn't seem right. "How long was I out for?" I asked.

David huffed out a laugh, and I shot glaring eyes faster than a bullet from the gun. His laugh was shot down while he said, "The first time it was for, like, five minutes then Blaine came out of the bathroom, and you kind of just passed out, again. Do you not remember?"

I nodded just as Blaine started to grumble, "I wish I had my ducks with my right now."

Raising my eyebrows, so that they peak into my forehead, I ask, "What?"

"Kurt! Where are my ducks?" Blaine grumbled voice increasing a pitch.

With Kurt shushing him, everyone else seemed to mumble. My bed shrieks, as I roll off of it. I ask, "Is he going to puke again?"

"No, he shouldn't… he's been talking about ducks a lot while you were out," Kurt said. Blaine rolled over facing away from Kurt snores coming out of his mouth. "Man, Blaine is a crazy sick person."

"Okay," I say stalking to the door. "I'm going to go down to the common areas, so I can avoid sick Blaine. Anybody want to join?"

Everyone except Kurt and Blaine stood up, and followed me out into the hallway. The door snapped closed. We all padded down the hallway towards the stairwell with a smile on our faces. We all knew that this was a big step for the infamous Klaine we've been waiting for. Maybe Blaine being sick wasn't the only reason I left the room. Those two needed alone time.

"Dude," David spewed out. "You should have seen them while you were passed out. Kurt was, like, practically spooning him."

"It was cute," Trent replied.

Jeff chimes in, "Sooooooo… are our bets still on?"

"Yep," I say. "Though David's out of the race."

"Hey!" David yells his voice echoing in the stairwell we were now walking in. "I'm sorry that Blaine is a lot dumber than I took him for."

I smile more. However dumb Blaine was, I just need him to find his sense around regionals. If he does, Trent and I win the bet. We all reach the common rooms, and pile onto the open couches in front of the television. After two movies later, I retire upstairs to the dorm room. I pray harder than a priest that Blaine was not still sick. I reach for the door knob, and turn it opening the door and being faced with snores and a dark room. Looking at Blaine's bed I see Kurt laying on his back. His chest was pillowing Blaine's face, as they snuggle. Adorable. I snap a picture to send to the Warblers. We all know the budding love of Klaine was bubbling. We're all waiting for the day it boils. That day better be regionals because I have fifty dollars on the line.


End file.
